| Ba ba ba ba, ba ba ba ba
|
| Ba ba ba ba, ba ba ba ba
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| Ba ba ba ba, ba ba ba ba
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| Ba ba ba
|
| You see I met her on a Monday
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| And her name was Chill
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| From the what-the-hell family’s
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| Relation to free will
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| Yeah she circled my circumference
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| Said she had some time to kill
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| Been combing the beach for a beautiful freak
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| And I just might fit the bill
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| She said:
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| Ooh, I think I’m liking you
|
| Ooh, do you feel the same way too?
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| I said, ooh, I think I do
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| I said, ooh, I think you’re cute
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| I said, ooh, merci beaucoup
|
| I said, ooh ooh
|
| And maybe I’m calling you baby
|
| And I might just say you’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| And I like it that way
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| And I like it that way
|
| So we fell in love that summer
|
| Underneath the Star Wars sign
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| Drinking cases of each other
|
| And guitar and April Wine
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| And we lay down in the alley
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| As the sunlight hit the pine
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| And talked of all things great
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| Like the rose of Gertrude Stein
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| And we fell in love that summer
|
| But it lasted eighteen weeks
|
| Used to kiss her on the hummer
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| Now I kiss her on the cheek
|
| And I vividly remember
|
| In a moment of recline
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| When she whispered in my ear
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| «I think I like both kinds»
|
| She said, ooh, I think I do
|
| I said, ooh, I think you’re cute
|
| She said, ooh, merci beaucoup
|
| I said, ooh ooh
|
| And maybe I’m chasing Amy
|
| And I might just say you’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| And I like it that way
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| And I like it that way
|
| I’m feeling love
|
| I’m feeling love
|
| I’m feeling love
|
| I’m feeling love
|
| I’m feeling love
|
| I’m feeling love
|
| I’m feeling love
|
| I’m feeling love
|
| So why don’t you tell me what’s great?
|
| When the puck hits the net
|
| At the Stanley Cup game
|
| And Miles hits the notes
|
| When he sketches out of Spain
|
| And the wedding gets you high
|
| From the perfect catering
|
| And love makes you lie
|
| Even though you bought the ring
|
| And you screw with your spine
|
| And the minor chord change
|
| And the more things change
|
| The more they stay the same
|
| But I’m looking for your kind
|
| Yeah I’ll drive through the driving rain
|
| 'Cause what was so wrong
|
| From the very beginning
|
| That we would have to change
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| And I like it that way
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| You’re my love cliche
|
| And I like it that way
|
| And maybe I’m calling you baby
|
| And I might just say you’re my love cliche
|
| I’m in love
|
| I’m in love
|
| I’m in love
|
| I’m in love
|
| I’m in love
|
| I’m in love |